Good kitty?

 

Baby Simon and River.

Simon is a good kitty, but Simon has seen some stuff. His expressive face tries to tell you, but cats just aren’t great story tellers. 

I grew up thinking cats only lived a year or two. In Topanga Canyon, we always had two, and when we lost one it was replaced at the first opportunity. But they were working cats. They ranged indoors and out, doing their jobs. If we didn’t have cats, we had mice. But working cats face hazards, and I had to accept that reality again and again as a child. 

We also had cats whenever they were allowed where we lived as I raised my kids. They lived longer, and until the 1990’s they also were all indoor outdoor cats. 

My daughter, Megan, has always been a cat lover. We have had a number of beloved cats. When Meg was 18, her dad passed suddenly of a heart attack. Unfortunately, our beloved Patches kitty followed him a few months later, after declining health from grief. 

I was not sure how finances and living arrangements would change. I told my daughter I would not get another cat. If she wanted a cat, it would be her responsibility. 

Incredibly, we have continued to live together. We have added and subtracted household members and pets through the last 20 years. Through growing and changing economies, it has just worked. Now I own a house with her and her husband. I have had the privilege of being able to be present, watching grandchildren grow. 

None of the cats have been mine. I have not acquired them, named them, or claimed them. I have provided food. Well, also some treats. Sometimes toys. Yet many of them have claimed me. 

Simon came to us about 11 ½ years ago with his sister, River. He was the runt of the litter and she dominated him, but was also his fierce protector. 

We were renting a townhouse condo unit in Tustin. Our front door faced into a grassy circular courtyard. As kids came in and out, it was impossible to keep a cat inside if who didn’t want to be. That became the trauma of young Simon’s life. He saw his beloved big sister taken by a coyote. 

After that, he was terrified of going outdoors. We tried to introduce him to our enclosed back yard after we bought our house. He would cower and shake, escaping back inside as soon as he could. Even when doors are left open, he will skitter away to hide.  

While I was still working, he knew my schedule and would watch for me to come home. He does his best to boss me around and control my schedule. And even though I’m home more these days, he still lets people know he is concerned if I leave the house. He is a good kitty, just watching out for me. 

But Monday evening, yes, two days ago, we noticed he was missing. We searched the house. We looked everywhere we could think of and walked a bit of the neighborhood, calling. Calling quietly, as it was bedtime. He was just gone. A shed in the backyard was open, but it was checked. One of the two small doggies we have was chased out. 

We remembered that earlier in the day, the younger and more energetic doggy had managed to push the back door open and was laying in her nighttime bed. We sent her back out and firmly closed the door. But surely Simon did not go out. Simon never goes out. We had looked. We had called. If he did go out, where would he go? 

My daughter stayed home from work yesterday. She posted on local social media and put up flyers. Every so often, one or the other of us would walk around, front yard and back, calling, listening carefully for a distressed “Meow!”

We greatly feared the worst. Hope became harder to hold onto. After all, he is an older cat. Maybe he had decided he was done. 

Then a household member went out to get something from the shed, and was greatly startled to see an animal scurry to hide.

It was Simon. He was saved!

He ate and asked for more. He returned again and again for water. His expressive eyes clearly said he had some big feelings. Last night, he slept tight against me. After all, he had survived! Over 24 hours inside a shed in his own back yard, such an ordeal. 

Today, the family routine has been restored. But somehow Simon still has a certain look in his eyes. He looks just a bit older and tougher, like an old veteran. After all, for all the pampering of his cushy life, he has seen some stuff. 

Safe and sound, but seen some stuff!